


Exhaustion

by MirellaPryce



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Charmed7293, F/M, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, I break everything in this, I had fun looking through tag suggestions, M/M, The Dark in You, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, This is me, Why Did I Write This?, You really don't see or hear anything, except Pitch raging behind a mirror, mild sex scene?, present, probably physics, who are we even trying to kid?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 22:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1320763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirellaPryce/pseuds/MirellaPryce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"At this stage, the stress has continued for some time. The body's resistance to the stress may gradually be reduced, or may collapse quickly."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exhaustion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [charmed7293](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmed7293/gifts).



> I should apologize for everything, but I won't.  
> This is for Charmed, because I had inspiration in the form of being angry at EB! Jack for getting in my head when I already have so much to work on. (Plus I have a project due, so I'm always inspired when that happens. This combination means you can expect more angst coming up soon. Speaking of which, does anyone want to edit the creepiest blackice/goldenfrost I've written to date?)
> 
> Premise: Over time, dealing with Pitch would just become exhausting. It was a chore to add to everything else already in his life. It would not likely get better with time.

"Will you marry me?" Jack is on one knee, the ever classic gesture. He's known for a while it would come to this.

She smiles a little as she says, "Sure."

Jack beams back. He knows she doesn't love him that way, but that doesn't stop him from swooping her up, twirling her around, and kissing her on the lips.

He knows it's selfish, but he needs her, and Tooth knows it too. That's why she'll stay.

And hopefully it'll be enough.

\---

Jack traces Tooth's arm gently, not even sure if she's awake as he asks, "Have you ever thought about having kids?"

"Not tonight Jack," she mumbles.

Jack understands she's not misunderstanding him. She knows he's not asking for sex in a roundabout way.

She's cutting off a conversation she can't have.

Not tonight.

Not ever.

Jack took her life away so he could have some semblance of a normal one. He knows how hard she works to take care of him, because he works twice as hard to pretend nothing's wrong. It's selfish of him to even ask, because how can he even expect her to take care of a child and him too?

\---

It's taken a long time for them to get here. Far longer than any other couple he's ever heard of. Somehow though, even after everything he went through with Pitch, Jack slowly found himself able to open himself to Tooth.

He still doesn't know how he got so lucky to have someone wait for him. Even the most gentle of intimate touches had been impossible to bear before.

Now they're in the bed though, and Jack's grateful for Tooth's sake that this isn't the first time.

She's whispering kindnesses in his ear, while his hands wander her curves. He's purposefully ignoring the vanity across the room, but for the first time, the lights are on and the mirror isn't covered.

It's a dangerous game, but Jack wanted to show Pitch he could play it.

They're both gasping, and Jack can barely handle all the things Tooth does to him. She's above him and around him-

And Pitch is screaming louder than either of them, from across the room.

Jack can't see the mirror from here. Can't see past Tooth's shoulder, no matter if it's up or down. That hasn't stopped him from hearing Pitch cursing up a storm since he figured out what was going on.

At first Pitch had been all smiles when he saw Jack take the curtain off the mirror. But when Jack had turned away, Pitch had gone silent. Technically that was how it was meant to work, but then again, nothing with Pitch had ever gone according to plan.

Jack had only seen him one more time when he brought a giggling Tooth into the room and that look had been absolutely lethal.

He was almost afraid Pitch would smash the glass from the other side of the mirror judging by the banging sounds he could hear along with the shouting.

It was taking everything Jack had to not give into Pitch and the shadows’ demands that he stop. He had specifically chosen to have Tooth ride him for that reason. The only way to get to Pitch then would be to hurt her, and that was enough motivation for Jack to hold on just a little longer.

"Jack! You stop this instant! You are only mine! You have only ever been mine! Do you hear me? When I get out there will be _nowhere_ your friend can hide I can't find her!"

The threat is almost enough to make him stop. He has to remind himself it's a bluff though. Has to remind himself that Pitch has no way out. Tooth has guaranteed that.

So he kisses her, and holds her face the way lovers should. She kisses back, and Jack puts his all into it when Pitch sarcastically remarks, "Oh yes. That's quite the kiss. All romance and no _bite_. That's not really what you like though is it Jack? You would really prefer her to fuck you into the mattress until you can't think wouldn't you? You want her to mark you and bleed you, and fully claim you, until there is no _you_ left to hold.

"But she can't do that for you. Only I can give you what you want Jack. I'm everything you need. I am _all_ you need."

Jack comes to the sound of Pitch's voice, and he hates himself a little for it.

\--

After all this time, Jack is actually very proud of himself and how far he's come. He's adapted. He's had to.

He still hates most reflective surfaces, but he's gotten better at avoiding them.

He knows to look at the photographer's shoulder when pictures are being taken.

He knows where to find opaque glasses for their cupboard.

He knows just how much dust he can get away with that Tooth won't nag him for the state of their house, and so he won't see Pitch in the counters or floors.

He knows precisely when to close his eyes so he won't see that face in her eyes when they kiss.

He's learned to do most of his daily routine blind.

Shaving has always given him difficulty though. There's always just one patch he's missed, and Tooth will laugh at him for it as she holds his face and tries to love him more than she does.

Today he can't screw that up though. Today he has an interview for a very important job that would make a world of difference. It isn't much, but Jack knows it's the least he can do for Tooth. If he's going to depend on her the rest of her life, he can at least try to make it so she can rely on him to bring home an income.

With a deep breath, he walks into the bathroom, and looks directly at the little mirror Tooth uses to do her makeup. As always, Pitch is right there. Usually he's scowling, as tired of his prison as Jack is of having him always there, but whenever Jack looks directly at him, he grins wide.

Pitch still has it in his head that Jack can't live without him, and looking at his reflection and seeing Pitch is a tiny proof of that. Jack always glares, but today, he just has one objective in mind.

Before Pitch can say something - because by god the Nightmare Man always has _something_ to say - Jack cuts him off with far more bravado than he feels. "Could ya move over by any chance? I need to shave and your face is always in the way."

Pitch looks at him curiously. His head is actually tilted to the side like he's found something in Jack he doesn't quite get. He looks around the mirror in a way that makes Jack wonder what it's like on Pitch's side of the glass. Wonders what Pitch's world is like. Wonders if Pitch could have held him in a world of reflections. If he could break the mirror, would he-

"So can you move or not?" he snaps, using anger to cover up the fear at how easily he still falls into trains of thought centering on Pitch.

The shadow man moves ever so slowly, and for the first time in years, Jack sees his face. He's shocked to see that absolutely nothing has changed. He doesn't have time to consider what this means though, so he lathers his face and gets to work shaving properly.

"So what exactly is it we needed to do this little experiment for?" Jack can't see Pitch with so little room in the mirror to begin with, and with Jack needing to lean in so close to see. It's irritating to be reminded that he's still there.

"I have a job interview," he explains, too tired to fight with Pitch today. It never gets him anywhere, and it's not like Pitch is going anywhere either. It's neither of their choice, but they both have to live with things the way they are. "I have to look good." He catches the last bit under his chin, and thinks he deserves a good star for not cutting himself.

Once he's done, Pitch slips back into place, as if being anywhere else made him uncomfortable. Jack had intended on just leaving Pitch there and going on with his day in as much peace as he can. Of course the boogeyman had to ruin that. "If you ask me, you always look good."

It's so sweet that for barely a moment, Jack forgets all the reasons he should hate the man in the mirror. Then he turns as quickly as he can and leaves even faster, trying not to think too much about those words.

\--

Over time, Jack is forced to think about just what it means to never change. At first Jack and Tooth had been able to laugh at how he would never be able to get rid of his baby face. They had been forced to acknowledge the problem for what it was when people began to ask Tooth if Jack was her son.

It wasn't that he didn't age entirely, Jack had been almost relieved to realise. He just didn't age at the same rate as everyone else.

Give or take a ratio of ten regular years to one of his.

He didn't look in mirrors too often though, so for Jack, it was just like he was aging the same as his wife of fifty years. He would always be spry and young when she needed his help doing anything. Most of the time though, he would be the husband who made her meals, and read to her when her eyes were too tired to read the pages of her book.

"How is it that I'm so old, and you're so beautiful?" she asks one night while they just sit in bed.

He laughs, because Tooth has always said his laugh could make her feel better after anything. He laughs, because he thinks it's ironic. "I have more white hair than you do," he jokes, and nuzzles the top of her head, which has long lost its rainbow colouring. "As for beautiful, I don't think there's a single woman alive as beautiful as you are. You've always been pretty, and age has only treated you kindly." He kisses her wrinkled cheek, and smiles brighter when her laugh lines stand out.

They mark a good, long life. They tell him that maybe he didn't screw up too badly, if she smiled enough in her life that her face is now defined by her past smiles and laughter. "You're a sap," she tells him, and he laughs and agrees with her, accepting the weak slap that comes with her words.

"You are so beautiful. Never forget that Tooth," he whispers after she's fallen asleep. He slips off the too small bed, and turns off the lights to her room before heading into the fluorescent lighting of the hospital corridor. He'll be back the next day, and every day, until the nurses tell him he can finally take her home.

\--

The home they sent her to was no better than the hospital. Jack can't help but resent that they made her call that place home, instead of the house they'd moved to five years before her fall. He hates it even more, because the number of reflections in the hospital had been bad enough, and somehow that _place_ had managed to be even worse. It felt like no matter where he took Tooth, Pitch had always followed.

Mostly he hates it because it was where she died.

Now he's unwelcome in the home without someone specific to visit. So he sits in his own house, surrounded by boxes of Tooth's things. He supposes he'll have to pack the rest of her stuff eventually, but not today.

He doesn't even have the energy to turn on the light when the room begins to darken. He doesn't have the energy to think of why it would be better for him if he did.

He doesn't have the energy still, when the reason all too kindly reminds him.

"Black looks good on you Jack. It looks almost like you're becoming one with the shadows. Drowning in the darkness around you." Jack barely has to turn his head to see Pitch all too gleeful in the window he's leaning against.

Part of him thinks that doesn't sound like such a bad idea. The part of him that has always fought harder, tells him it would shame Tooth's memory. Reminding him of what Tooth would and wouldn't like might just be the only thing to keep Jack going at the moment. She wouldn't like him talking to Pitch, but he may be the only one who knows what Jack's going through. He has been there this whole time after all.

"Not today," he whispers to the window. "I can't deal with anyone being happy today, least of all, you." He's just so _tired_.

Exhausted seems more appropriate.

For a while Pitch is quiet, and Jack can almost believe that if he turned his head, Pitch wouldn't be there. The thought scares him more than he'd like to admit.

The illusion is destroyed by an accented whisper of, "I'll always be here."

That gives him far more comfort than he'd like.

\--

Decades later, and Jack has moved four times, changed his ID twice, and has gone to a funeral for a little sister that he hadn't been allowed to see for years and years before she passed away. His life goes on, and he changes ever so slowly. He's almost a hundred and twenty years old, but people think he looks thirty at most. He still lives with as few reflective surfaces as possible. He barely remembers that for all these mirrors he sees Pitch in, only one truly matters.

He hadn't seen the thing in a century and hadn't thought about it in almost as long. He isn't reminded about it until one night he's woken up with a weight pressing him down that's still too familiar.

Inside he's screaming, his entire body well aware of what's happening, but feeling powerless to stop it. The shadows that have been all but asleep for years are screaming alongside him in joy.

The weight that shouldn't be there is holding him in place, and there's a whisper he can feel on his neck, "A certain antiques dealer in Panama has found himself with more than just seven years bad luck."

Jack closes his eyes, and everything is dark.


End file.
